Because He Was Defiantly Worth It
by AdrianaGreen
Summary: This is "Let's Kill Hitler" from River Songs point of view from when she regenerated to when she kisses The Doctor. This will be multiple chapters even though it could have just been a long one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This was originally going to be a one-shot, but when I finished it, it ended up being too long. I could put it in one chapter, but I find it annoying when one chapter prattles on and on and I tend to get distracted. So, I'm going to edit each part at a time and upload them into separate chapters. My spelling and grammar isn't always the best, but I did my best on editing this part. The next part should be up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or even most of the dialogue in this piece. This is purely me having fun with character emotions and thoughts through a story that was already developed.

Enjoy the story:

I felt the pulsing regeneration energy slowly begin to fade leaving me feeling dazed and unsteady on my feet. I took a few deep breaths and blinked at the room and the people that were completely the same but somehow indescribably different through my new eyes.

"Whoa, right," my entire body felt strange, "Let's see then," I glanced down at my new body pressing my hands against my figure to assure myself that it was really mine. Impressive. "Ooh it's all going on down there, isn't it?" I asked excitedly. My hands wandered to my head to meet with a mass of bouncy curls utterly different from my previous hair. "The hair!" I exclaimed gasping a little bit at the newness of it, "the hair!" I spotted a mirror and sped over to it to have a glance. The hair was amazing, jumping out in every direction but still managing to look sexy. "It just doesn't stop does it?" I asked my reflection amazedly my eyes perusing the rest of my reflection. My eyes were a bright green and the bouncy hair was blond, framing a lightly aged, pale, heart-shaped face. "Look at that! Everything changes!" It was shocking but not in a bad way. "Oh, but I love it! I love it!"

I spun around with a little bounce toward the group of shell-shocked people I had almost forgotten were in the room for the past few moments. "I'm all short of… _mature_" Their faces were stricken, unable to process what had just happened. Both of my parents were trying to comprehend that the girl who had grown up with them was actually their daughter and that the woman standing in front of them was both Melody and Mels. I turned my attention to the young face that I'd seen in pictures all of my life. The Doctor was perhaps even more surprised than my parents were. I knew he was actually over 1,000 years old and a hardened war mongrel, but his baby face was kind of adorable in a ridiculous way.

My eyes caught a handgun disposed on an overturned chair and I hatched a plan. Wanting to see exactly what this new body could do, and needing a distraction while I reached for the handgun, I kicked my leg up on the upturned chair, letting the slit in my dress part just enough for a little peak. "Hello Benjamin," I purred. It had the exact effect I was hoping for: his eyes traveled down to the bottom of my dress, he slapped a hand over his eyes mortified, and he mouthed the words, "Who's Benjamin?" I snatched the gun up knowing my parents weren't quick enough to see. Two other things occurred to me at the same time: the backup gun in the fruit dish and… "The teeth!" I clicked my teeth together a few times and turned back to the mirror while tapping them with my fingernails. "The teeth! The teeth!" I turned back to my audience. "Oh, look at them!" I flew at The Doctor (and the gun) and he jumped up on the desk to avoid me. I shoved myself between his legs and he flailed around confusedly trying not to look at my cleavage or touch me in any way. "Watch out that bow tie," I rumbled bearing my new teeth at him and using his distractedness to reach behind him until my hand curled around a revolver sized object and I stole it away into my jacket.

That objective complete, I spun around to my parents and chirped, "Excuse me, you lot. I need to weigh myself," and with that I took off into an adjacent room. Of course there wouldn't be anything handy to weigh myself in Hitler's office, but, judging by the expression on my parents and The Doctor's faces, I didn't expect they'd think of that. I grabbed the first gun I'd grabbed out of my vest pocket and stuck it in the band of my belt behind my back. That finished, I popped back into the room before any of them could catch their breath hearing the end of their brief conversation.

"River Song-" Rory said.

"Who's River Song?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. The group looked at me.

"Spoilers," The Doctor replied.

"Spoilers?" my head tilted a little and I stepped farther into the room. "What spoilers?" But then, my hand brushed my backside and I was distracted from my inquiry. "Hang on, just something I have to check."

This time running into the next room wasn't just a pretence. I was officially sexy. And that's when, despite the two guns I had on me, I had an epiphany. I'd been trained in every type of warfare known to man, but also every type of warfare known to woman. My brain worked quickly, scanning over The Doctor's reactions to the past few minutes. He was obviously sexually attracted to me to the point of being distracted enough to allow me to get two guns, but my education told me that when faced with any conventional weapon, he would snap out of it. Yet, I had one weapon on me that he wouldn't be expecting: a weapon that had felled men since the beginning of time. I always carried a little tube of lipstick on me infused with poison from the Judas Tree. It was guaranteed to kill even an ageless god of a Time Lord. It wasn't something I had planned on using on The Doctor; I'd never imagine that something like lipstick would be able to kill the 1,000 year old man or that I'd have a body he'd be interested in, but things had changed.

My mind thought through my new plan in less than three seconds and, as soon as it registered, I pulled the small tube of lipstick out of my vest pocket noting with horror for the first time how unsightly my dresses pattern actually was. What was my former regeneration thinking?! I would have to get new cloths as soon as I'd finished my task. I thinly spread the lipstick on taking caution not to get any in my mouth. "Oh, that's magnificent," I yelled it so they could hear in order to keep The Doctor a bit distracted because even though he'd brought armies to their knees, he'd shown in the last few minutes that he still was just a man. I danced back into the room striking a little pose in the doorway "I'm going to wear lots of jodhpurs!"

Amy, Rory, and The Doctor turned around to face me, each with different levels of distress. I grabbed the gun from my belt despite the fact that I no longer planned to kill him that way and pointed it right at his head. "Well, enough of all that," I said, "Down to business."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: This was originally going to be a one-shot, but when I finished it, it ended up being too long. I could put it in one chapter, but I find it annoying when one chapter prattles on and on and I tend to get distracted. So, I'm going to edit each part at a time and upload them into separate chapters. My spelling and grammar isn't always the best, but I did my best on editing this part. The next part should be up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or even most of the dialogue in this piece. This is purely me having fun with character emotions and thoughts through a story that was already developed.

Enjoy the story:

"Oh hello," The Doctor replied as though I didn't have a gun trained on him, "I thought we were getting married."

"I told you," I replied flippantly walking closer, "I'm not a wedding person."

"Doctor, what's she doing?" My father asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

"What's she's programmed to," he replied never taking his eyes off me.

"Yeah, but where'd she get the gun?" he asked confused.

"Hello, Benjamin," he replied knowingly. That's when I realized that the gun was slightly too light to hold any bullets. Smart man.

"You noticed," I pulled the trigger knowing that it wouldn't fire. Both of my parents flinched at the "click, click, click" but the doctor just stared at me smirking slightly. I frowned at the empty revolver like I was surprised, playing the lie up.

"Of course I noticed," he replied, "as soon as I knew you were coming I tidied up a bit."

I dropped the gun and just because I wasn't going to let him get away with his smugness said, "I know you did," and reached for the second gun in my vest.

He wasn't deterred. "I know you know."

I gripped the gun and pulled out a… banana. This time I really was surprised and a bit angry that I hadn't been able to tell the difference between a gun and a banana. I glared at it offended as though it was the culprit, but then remembered who really was.

"Goodness," I quipped, frustrated. "Is killing you going to take all day?" He snatched the banana from my hand playfully.

"Why," he inquired throwing and catching the banana, "You busy?"

"Oh, I'm not complaining," I reassured him. Truthfully, this little mind game was probably the most fun I'd had in… ever. I decided to spin another test on him; I grabbed a letter opener from Hitler's desk and spun at him. By the time I completed the turn he'd jumped back and aimed his sonic screwdriver. It hit the little knife and sent it flying. I looked at him surprised at his fast reflexes, though I should have expected it from the man who slaughtered armies single-handedly.

"If you were in a hurry you could have killed me in the cornfield," he pointed out.

"We'd only just met. I'm a psychopath. I'm not rude." I spun away from him and scoped up the actual gun from the fruit dish and pointed at him again. My mother screamed, but The Doctor simply held up the cartridge with a condescending look on his face. I pointed the gun at the ceiling. Alright. Now I was annoyed.

"You're not a psychopath," my mother spoke up pleadingly. "Why would she be a psychopath?" She directed the question to The Doctor.

"Oh, mummy, mummy, pay attention," The Doctor and I started circling each other. "I was trained and conditioned for one purpose," I was inching closer to him and he was letting me, mistakenly believing that he could thwart any of my plans, but I knew that there was one plan he wasn't going to expect. "I was born to kill the doctor," and destiny was about to assert itself.

"Demon's run," he explained to Rory and Amy, "this is what they were building," we were only a breath away from one another now. "My bespoke psychopath."

"I'm all yours, sweetie," I struck with a gentle teasing kiss that he returned momentarily before I pulled back.

"Only River Song gets to call me that," he told me. I smiled knowing I had won.

"Who's River Song?" I asked simply because it was the second time I had heard the name.

"An old friend," he replied. I inwardly rolled my eyes at the non-answer and squashed my curiosity. He wouldn't live long enough to tell me now.

"Stupid name," I commented and lost interest in the dead man. Now that my task was over, my whole life's meaning was finished; I could do anything I wanted. I was free, although, it didn't feel any different. I felt exactly as I always had. I turned to the window trying to force myself to feel free because the doctor was dead and destiny had nothing else to demand of me.

"Look at that. Berlin on the eve of war. A whole world about to tear itself apart," I said. I was a war machine in a town of violence. It was the perfect place to start my new life as a free woman."Now that's my kind of town. Mum, Dad, don't follow me. And yes, that is a warning." I turned toward the window, but heard The Doctor speak from behind me.

"Fair warning from me then," he said.

"No need my love," I responded turning to peer at him, "The dead is done. And so are you." He smirked, obviously not getting it yet and stepped forward. That's when the poison hit. He stumbled and Amy and Rory jumped to help him.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" I watched his face contort in pain. This is where I knew I should feel guilt. I should feel something seeing the evidence that I'd just killed a man or, at the very least, I should feel bad for my parents. He was their friend and the concern in my mother's voice should have made me feel something, but it didn't. It wasn't as though I felt any joy in his death. It just was. I'd been taught from the cradle to kill him and now he was dying. It's how things were and, though I cared about my parents, I couldn't find any pity for their grief over the foregone conclusion of a war lord's death.

"What have you done?" I shot The Doctor the same condescending look he had graced me with moments before, "River?" There was that name again paired with an indescribable look in his eyes.

"Oh, River, River, River. More than a friend, I think." Whoever she was still made me curious but I doubted he'd tell me, especially now.

"What have you done?!" Yep, he went and changed the subject again. He stumbled forward onto his front.

"It was never going to be a gun for you, Doctor," I smiled a little bit because I had fooled him. "The man of peace who understands every kind of warfare except, perhaps, the cruelest." I can see him finally figure it out as he wipes his lips. "Kiss, kiss," I blew a kiss at the dying man and jumped out of the window soaring for a moment before hitting the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: This was originally going to be a one-shot, but when I finished it, it ended up being too long. I could put it in one chapter, but I find it annoying when one chapter prattles on and on and I tend to get distracted. So, I'm going to edit each part at a time and upload them into separate chapters. My spelling and grammar isn't always the best, but I did my best on editing this part. The next part should be up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or even most of the dialogue in this piece. This is purely me having fun with character emotions and thoughts through a story that was already developed.

Enjoy the story:

I walked confidently down the street not caring about the soldiers standing guard at the corner. They noticed me as I got closer and they lined up behind their leader. I could only imagine the shock of a woman in such odd (an hideous) cloths jumping out of Hitler's window. I laughed internally; this would be my first bit of fun as a free woman. "Hello, boys," I said jovially.

"What are you doing here?" most sane people would have been afraid of the guns pointed strait at her head, but I wasn't sane.

"Well. I was on my way to this gay gypsy bar mitzvah for the disabled, when I suddenly thought, gosh, the Third Reich's a bit rubbish. I think I'll kill the Fuhre. Who's with me?" I jibed.

The leader didn't seemed amused by my joke and turned to his men, "Shoot her." The bullets didn't even phase me.

"Tip for you all: never shoot a girl while she's regenerating," I laughed as regeneration energy shot through me and knocked the men off their feet as my body healed itself instantly. "Now that hit the spot," I leaned over and grabbed two of the shotguns from the dazed guards and strung them over my shoulder. I grabbed one of the motorbikes, hopped on, and turned the key. "Thanks boys," I chirped, "call me."

"What are you doing?" my mother's voice asked from behind me, obviously she decided against heading my warning.

"New body. New town. I'm going shopping," I revved up the engine, kicked up the kickstand, and motored off.

I was looking everywhere as Berlin in all of its glory flew past me. The town was on the edge of war, but, for now at least, it was still very much alive with the buildings infused with culture and the streets full of people who didn't know their lives as they knew them had already ended. Perhaps it was sad that all of the people on the streets now would either be dead or forever changed in a few short years, the fantasy of the thriving city shattered by war and hate, but for me, it had already happened and I wouldn't have been able to save them even if I had the time. I continued to scan the streets for a good place to exchange my prior incarnation's clothing and my eyes fell on a fancy looking building with armed Nazi soldiers running security outside. That seemed like a good bet on where to find some nice clothing. I parked the bike down the street a little and loped toward the doorway. Two men were guarding the entry.

"Halt," one commanded when he saw me. I rolled my eyes and didn't pause. He started reaching for a gun so I punched him with a practiced precision that would leave him out cold for a few minutes, then swung one of the guns around and smashed it into the other guards face before he could even process what was going on.

"Never get in the way of a girl's shopping," I advised the two unconscious men and then hopped over one of their sprawled arms into the stunning foyer complete with a high stone ceiling, a marble floor, and priceless paintings. Violins played under the hum of conversation and the clang of dinning utensils in the main room: the makings for a fancy dinner. Knowing that a grand entrance was in order, I unstrapped the other gun from my back and aimed both at the elegant roof. I could have simply quietly stolen some nice clothing from a shop or even a house, but people like the ones who were having their lavish little dinner with all of their social customs and friendly chatter annoyed me. Besides, it was more fun this way.

I let loose a string of bullets into the ceiling while walking through the main room's entrance. The men in women in elegant attire and uniforms that were scattered throughout the hall paused, bewildered at the intrusion. There was a beat of silence after the bullets finished embedding themselves in the roof.

"Ladies and Gentleman," I intoned grandly, "I don't have a thing to wear," my guns pointed at the paralyzed group and I gave a little chuckle somewhere between glee and insanity, "Take off your cloths." They all stared at me like they'd never had a woman with crazy hair and two guns interrupt their party and demand they get naked; they must have not had lives. I sent a warning shot at the opposite wall. They immediately began tearing off their clothes as if their lives depended on it; I guess the guns pointed at them gave that impression. I wandered down toward the other side of the room watching their progress and making sure my guns pointed in the optimum direction. When I judged there was enough to choose from dumped on the floor I sent another bullet into the far wall nailing the painting of an aristocratic looking man right in the forehead. They all jumped.

"That's enough. You may go," I shot the painting again, on the nose this time, for effect, and they all started scrambling toward the door knocking over flowers and chairs like ants: naked ants.

Once the room was clear, I went around perusing my bounty. I grabbed a mirror from the outskirts of the room and pulled it into the center. There were tons of interesting hats. I picked one up that appeared to be a giant lily pad with black fishnet and a pink rose on the top. I smirked and set it on my head while pulling a face at myself in the mirror then tossed the abomination across the room. I picked up a green dress, but immediately discarded it when I saw the hideous flower pattern on the chest.

"Why do all rich people have to have such weird tastes?" There was a black dress hanging over a chair, which I snatched up. I ripped off the dress I'd been wearing, but when I slipped the new one on, it was far too big for me. I sighed ripping it off and went searching again. I found a pair of smaller men's jeans and slipped them on. They weren't the perfect fit, but were manageable. There was a yellow men's undershirt on a table that would have probably fit, but I didn't like the color. Finally, I glanced at an overturned chair and found a brown lady's undershirt. I slipped it on and noted that it actually covered enough to be socially expectable in the 21st century. I decided I'd keep the boots I had been wearing before since none of the shoes looked remotely attractive. I examined myself in the mirror and twisted around so I could see all of my features. "Very nice," I complemented myself. My eyes skated over the room again. I grabbed another hat off a table and laughed at the odd feather sticking from it. I danced around a few upturned pieces of furniture and found a furry scarf on the floor that somewhat matched my shirt. I grabbed it loping back to the mirror and slung the soft material around my neck. "Oh, that is fun," I turned a little in the mirror, "from every angle!" Then I saw my mother's face in the mirror and I rolled my eyes. After growing up with her, I should have known she wouldn't leave me be on my shopping spree.

"Now dear," I said exasperated while still checking my outfit out in the mirror, "I told you not to follow me." Ignoring my mother for the moment, who had surprisingly not started ranting at me like usual, I grabbed a soldier's jacket and slipped it on. "I might take the age down a little," I commented watching my face in the mirror, "Just gradually. To freak people out."

"You killed The Doctor," she stated quietly. Was she still all worked up over that? It's not as though he had been a nice man. He'd been the destroyer of worlds, had committed acts of genocide, and ruined the lives of those who'd cared about him. I'd done her and my dad a favor. The Doctor hadn't cared about them anyway; he never cared about anything but flying around in his little time machine playing god. Perhaps he'd saved their lives a few times, but when it really mattered he would have left them to die. I'd been taught his history all my life and knew exactly what kind of man he was. He was nothing mother should be crying over.

"Oh yes, I know dear," I replied flippantly. She'd figure it out at some point and forgive me like she always had when I'd done something she didn't like while growing up with her. Maybe she'd even thank me for saving her life. "You're not going to keep on about it." I stuck on the hat that matched the jacket and tilted my head, "Ooh, regeneration. It's a whole new coloring to work with."

"You killed The Doctor on the order of the movement known as the Silence, an Academy of the Question. Do you accept and know this to be true?" Amy asked in an emotionless voice.

The names she threw out sounded familiar, but I wasn't quite sure. I had trouble remembering anything about my younger years and my education except for the education itself. "Quite honestly I don't really remember," I admitted still admiring myself in the mirror, "it was all a bit of a jumble."

Amy shoved the mirror aside and a bright blue light began emitting from her mouth. That's when I realized, it wasn't my mother. The force knocked me back and I stumbled, "N-no, get off me," I commanded feeling my body be almost completely immobilized. An almost forgotten fear of helplessness slithered down my spine as the force took all control away from me, but then there was a voice.

"Sorry, did you say the doctor," the blue light shut down leaving me free to move, but I stood shocked at the image before me. "Doctor?" he asked leaning against his TARDIS in a full-blown suit topped off with a top hat and a decorative cane. Then, as he peered over at me and the not-my-mother, I saw for the first time the man I had been taught about: the man that could make armies turn around just by mentioning his name and I felt something: fear or shock or perhaps admiration. He should be almost dead by now, but there he was, standing tall saying, "Doctor who?"


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: This was originally going to be a one-shot, but when I finished it, it ended up being too long. I could put it in one chapter, but I find it annoying when one chapter prattles on and on and I tend to get distracted. So, I'm going to edit each part at a time and upload them into separate chapters. My spelling and grammar isn't always the best, but I did my best on editing this part. The next part should be up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or even most of the dialogue in this piece. This is purely me having fun with character emotions and thoughts through a story that was already developed.

Enjoy the story:

"You're dying!" I said flabbergasted, "and you stopped to change?" It was ridiculous; it was insane, but he didn't seem to care as he flashed a smile like he wasn't in pain and did a nimble little twirl swinging his cane around while walking toward us.

"Oh, you should always waist time when you don't have any," his words were infuriatingly perplexing. He pointed his cane at me as if he were an elementary school teacher imparting knowledge on his young student, "Time is not the boss of me: rule 408." Then, quick as a flash, he turned to address the other occupant of the room. "Amelia Pond. Judgment Death Machine. Why am I not surprised?" He lifted up his cane, the top having split open and glanced at me with a, if I didn't know better, flirtatious smile, "Sonic cane," he explained.

"Are you serious?" I was referring to both his cane and his incomprehensible attitude.

"Never knowingly," he informed me, "never knowingly be serious. Rule 27. You might want to write these down." I looked at him. The way he was acting was making me nervous. He was dying, but he'd still insisted on coming to find me. There was no reason I could think of for a man like him to continue to push onward. Unless of course, he wanted to avenge his own death. "Oh, it's a robot. With four hundred and twenty-three life signs inside. A robot worked by tiny people," by now I was glancing over at the door. Sure, the poison would slow him down, but I wasn't confident that he or the robot would just let me get away. He turned back to me with another confusing smile of excitement that served to put me even more on the razors edge, "Love it." He turned back to it and stuck his face close to it, examining it, "but how did you all get in there, though? Bigger on the inside?" he asked, but before anyone could have thought of any answer he'd scanned the robot again and answered himself, "No. Basic miniaturization sustained by a compression field." I glanced at the door again. With him distracted by the robot, I might have a chance. "Ooh! Watch what you eat. It'll get you every time," he quipped, "Amy and Rory, if you're okay signal me," I was waiting for an opening and inching away, so only ideally noticed his cane making a sound. Apparently, that meant mom and dad were fine because he replied, "thanking you."

Yet then he started screaming in pain and slammed the cane into the ground to barely catch himself when his leg gave out. "So sorry," he spun to try to get to his feet, "Leg went to sleep. Just had a quick leg power nap," he was mostly on his feet now, "I forgot I had one scheduled!" His other leg began to collapse and he maneuvered to sit down on the stairs, "Actually, better sit down. I think I hear the right one yawning." He rubbed his leg willing it to come back to life. It was a useless action; he was dying and I knew exactly what it meant for me if I was still in the room when he did. I'd already gotten a taste of what the robot had to offer and I wasn't anticipating finding out what else it had in store. I turned to take my chances with running, but before I could even get close to the door I felt the force of the blue light squeeze me again. I struggled but I felt myself forced to turn around by a just-on-the-edge-of-painful pressure. I was lifted off my feet. The panic set in again strangling me in a different way than the pressure and I struggled against it wildly.

"Don't touch her! Don't you harm her in any way!" The Doctor's voice had a note of urgency to it that I hadn't heard before, almost like he care about his murderer hurting. The pressure eased at his words leaving me floating in midair and disoriented. The adrenaline still pumped through my veins at an alarming rate, but I was too dazed to do anything except struggle meekly and make little sounds of protest. The Doctor and the robot were speaking, but I didn't bother to work out what they were saying. The Doctor's voice had lost its edge and was back to the flippant tone I was growing accustomed to.

Through the filter of the blue light, nothing made much sense; it was like being in the spacesuit all over again. My body was bending to the will of something else and the world seemed nonexistent. I idly wondered if the real world had been only a dream and I was still a little girl in a spacesuit. Nothing seemed real without even being able to feel the ground under my feet. All that I was sure of was his voice. I couldn't even make out what he was saying, but the calm, yet intense tone soothed a bit of my terror. It didn't make any sense. The voice was a dying voice belonging to a dead man, a man who'd been dead since the day I was born because I was the gun already pointed at his head. Yet, it was still the only thing I could latch onto, the only thing keeping me from the dark nothingness that surrounded me. It took me back to when I was young and growing up as my parents' best friend. I'd always wanted to kill him of course, it was what I was made to do, but some part of me had fancied another path. For all of my early years, he was the only thing that existed for me and, when I found my mother, she had drawings and dolls and _stories_ about him. It wasn't any wonder that a part of my young mind had automatically latched onto the fantasy side of him. Sometimes I would dream that we were in love, that he would sweep me off my feet and take me for rides in his little blue box that was bigger on the inside. We'd travel across time and space and he'd be so incredibly in love with me that he'd ask me to marry him. He'd always protect me and never make me go into the spacesuit again and we'd live happily ever after.

Of course, then I'd shoved all of those daydreams away and reminded myself what I'd always been taught he was, but, whenever I had a nightmare, I'd take the daydreams out for a while because he had always been something I could hold onto.

Then, his calm voice became a groan of pain and I knew he was done and that now I'd have nothing to hold onto. That's when the pain started. It was fire burning me from the inside out and ice prickling at my skin. My body convulsed as electricity shot through me leaving only incredible heat accented by unbearable cold. Knifes sliced down every inch of my skin all at once and my brain pounded against my skull vying for escape. My survival instincts kicked in telling me to do anything to stop the pain, to break my own arm or chew off my skin; all I could do was scream. My brain shut down until my only thoughts were of the panic and the pain. Then his voice was their again, pleading this time. It stopped.

I fell to the ground, breathing in short pants as the world came into focus and the last of the pain faded from my body leaving only a dull ache. My mind was still completely animalistic and it was urging me to run. I had to run. I had to get away. No more pain. I couldn't have any more pain.

Yet then his voice was there bringing me out of the dark again. "Please, now we have to save your parents," he was saying. He tried to keep his voice calm, but there was an urgency about it. "Don't run. I know you're scared, but never run when you're scared. Rule 7. Please." I still wanted to run. I still needed to get as far away from this place as I could, but looking in his eyes, I saw something I couldn't explain. My breathing was returning to normal and the adrenaline was disappearing, leaving me weak. I knew it wasn't a good decision, but nevertheless I let myself collapse into a chair to watch him laboring for breath on the floor. He was almost there; he only had a few more moments. As I watched him, this man who had been the center of my life since I was born, I realized that I had never wanted to actually _watch_ him die. It was revolting watching a man so full of life and aspiration dying on a floor. Something squeezed inside me and I knew I was feeling the guilt that had been missing earlier. There was nothing left in him; he was lying motionless on the marble ground.

"Doctor can you hear us," it was my mother's voice, my real mother's voice, "Doctor, Doctor help us! Doctor help us! Doctor please!" Amazingly, his eyes opened as though the plea for help had sparked just a little more life into him. He tried to get up and when that didn't work he started to drag himself back to his TARDIS.

"Look at you," I said stunned, "You still care." It was completely contrary to everything I had ever known about The Doctor. He was dying. Why did he fight so hard to try to save my parents when he was almost dead anyway? He shouldn't fight, because he wasn't supposed to care. "It's impressive, I'll give you that."

"River, please," is all he managed to get out.

"Again!" I got to my feet. Again with the name River. I was so curious about the name The Doctor kept saying. "Who is this River?" I needed to know now. I'd always known that The Doctor didn't love anyone or anything, but the way he said the name was like this person was the single most important thing to him. That raw part of myself that had been dredged up by the torture was jealous because he was supposed to love me, but another part was amazed that The Doctor's last thoughts were to save her parents and of this River. "She's got to be a woman. Am I right?"

"Help me," he couldn't get enough air, "Save Amy and Rory. Help me." He didn't want her to save him, she realized; he wanted her to save other people: people he cared about. It didn't make any sense. It sent her world spinning in the opposite direction, so she latched on to the only thing she could make sense of.

"Tell me about her," I demanded, needing something from him. I needed something to show me the truth. He groaned, "go on."

"Argh!" he yelled, "Just," he paused his voice weakening with desperation, "help me."

"I don't know how!"

"You're the child of the TARDIS," he told me quietly. "You can save them. She'll show you how."

"I-" I hadn't the faintest idea what that meant but watching him desperate to save his friends, my parents, so he could die in peace, I knew I had to do something. "I'll try." I walked past him up to the blue box; the door opened easily for me. I glanced back at him watching me and he tried to give me an encouraging look, but failed. I nodded slightly and stepped in the TARDIS.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: This was originally going to be a one-shot, but when I finished it, it ended up being too long. I could put it in one chapter, but I find it annoying when one chapter prattles on and on and I tend to get distracted. So, I'm going to edit each part at a time and upload them into separate chapters. My spelling and grammar isn't always the best, but I did my best on editing this part. The next part should be up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or even most of the dialogue in this piece. This is purely me having fun with character emotions and thoughts through a story that was already developed.

Enjoy the story:

The door closed behind me and I stood for a moment. "Hello?" The Doctor had referred to the TARDIS as a "her". Perhaps she could understand me. I felt a little buzz in the air and jumped at the mechanical chirp. "Uh, hi," I stammered nervously, "I-I'm sorry I shot you." A comforting warmth spread through me. "Okay," I swallowed hoping the TARDIS stayed friendly and wouldn't try to avenge her owner's death by electrocuting me or dumping me in outer space without breathing equipment. "I need to save Amy and Rory. The Doctor said you'd help me." The TARDIS chirped and vibrated in what I assumed was consent. I cautiously took a step toward the consol. The warmth spread through me again soothing the ache from the torture that hadn't yet faded from my muscles and giving me enough confidence to move over and touch the consol. A tingle of welcome spread through my fingertips and down my body. "Okay then, show me how," I entreated gently. The tingling intensified, invading my mind, but still leaving me with control. It was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant or scary and I felt all of my trepidations slide away and the disastrous disorder of my mind quiet. It was the most peaceful I'd ever felt. With the TARDIS present in my mind, my hand wandered to a lever and I yanked. A moment later, I was flying around the consol pulling things and pressing buttons, following her directions, knowing what each button and knob did because she told me. The TARDIS started moving through space and time as effortlessly as I could walk down a street. When it landed, my parents appeared inside near the door.

"Doctor?" my mother asked hopefully. "Doctor you did it." They both started laughing, but then I walked into view and they sobered knowing why I was driving and he wasn't.

"I seem to be able to fly her," I filled the silence. "She showed me how. She taught me. The Doctor says I'm the child of the TARDIS. What does he mean?"

"Where is he," Amy asked. I looked down a bit and pulled a few levers to take us back. As soon as the TARDIS landed, Amy was out the door and by The Doctor's side, Rory following close behind. I didn't listen to what they said, but I could tell Amy was trying to command The Doctor not to die. I stood watching the exchange. The guilt was all there now, the guilt for killing him and the guilt for taking him from my parents. After a few moments Amy put her head on his chest and they rose. They walked to me and both gave me a look. I looked at each of them, then at The Doctor, and then at each of them again. I cautiously walked over to the dying man.

When I touched his shoulder, he looked me in the eye with an intensity I had never seen in another living being and said, "Find her. Find River Song and tell her something for me."

"Tell her what?" I asked not understanding why he wanted his killer to tell the person he loved something. I leaned over and put my ear close to his lips so he could whisper to me. When I felt his breath blow against my skin, another round of guilt shot through me, and tears gathered in my eyes for this woman and for The Doctor. "Well, I'm sure she knows," I assured him. He didn't respond and, when I pulled back to look at him, his chest wasn't moving. That had been his final breath.

I got to my feet and backed up towards my parents unable to process the death I had caused. "Who's River Song?" It was the only question left; the only question that mattered because I now knew that a good man's dying breath was devoted to her. I couldn't understand the look Amy gave me before she turned back to the robot.

"Are you still working, because I'm still a relative," she asked the machine. "Access files on River Song."

"Records available," it responded.

"Show me her," she requested, "Show me River Song." The face that had been pretending to be my mother's slowly morphed into a new face. It was a face I was only recently familiar with, but I knew it instantly; it was mine. The world that had been spinning wrong since The Doctor began contradicting everything I knew turned completely upside-down and the floor dropped out from under me. The bonds of my childhood and my education broke in that moment and I was suddenly free from it all. I was a child that jumped out of a swing flying high into the air like a bird. This was how I'd thought I would feel after killing The Doctor, what I'd thought I'd feel after I completed my destiny.

He'd loved me. He'd loved me like in all my dreams of living in the stars; his last breath was mine. But, as that thought crossed my mind, I was reminded of what every child knows; after that brief moment of flight, you always hit the pavement. He was dead. He was not only dead, but I'd killed him. I was the reason for the death of a man who cared so much that he was able to fight the poison I fed him until he'd saved my parents and me. At that moment, I knew no matter what I had been taught all of my life, I'd just killed the kindest, most generous, best man in the universe. I turned to his body, unfamiliar feelings bubbling to the surface.

"Melody, what did he say?" my mom asked from behind me. "The Doctor gave you a message for River Song, what was it?" The pain in my chest was morphing into something familiar and I suddenly knew what I could do, what I had to do if I ever wanted to live with myself. This was not my destiny, not anymore. "What's happening? River, what are you doing?" My skin was glowing with regeneration energy.

"Just tell me," I asked taking a step toward him, "The Doctor, is he worth it?"

"Yes, yes, he is," she replied instantly.

I bent over him and gently cupped his face with my glowing hands. When I touched him, his eyes popped open and air entered his lungs on a gasp.

"River," he gasped, "No, what are you doing?" I remembered what he'd said earlier when I kissed him the first time. I remembered what only River Song was allowed to call him and I'd just became River Song.

"Hello, Sweetie," I said and I breathed my life into him, because he was defiantly worth it.

Authors Note: Well folks, that's it. I hope you enjoyed it. Review and tell me what you think if you feel so inclined.


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